


The beat of the Sun

by Ladyisatramp



Series: [Translation] Haikyuu!! Short stories [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College AU, Enginner! Kageyama, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, Music band Nekoma, Valentine's Day, dancer! Hinata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 14:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13882875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyisatramp/pseuds/Ladyisatramp
Summary: A young street dancer in the center of the university earns everyone's attention, except for a boy with a bad-tempered face who doesn't stick his head out of a huge english dictionary.





	The beat of the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> N/A: The one-shot you are about to read is the translated version of the Spanish to English OS "Al son del Sol", which is also in this account.
> 
> "Haikyuu!!" and his characters don't belong to me, but to Haruichi Furudate.

 

The afternoon after the exhaustive english class at home were always the same.

 

He just wanted to study peacefully for a while in the pews of the campus, where the faculties of science and engineering had their point in common, the path was simple and one way as a base path. A huge garden with small restaurants and cafes for the students of the big university city.

 

A piece of urbanization inside a huge imaginary box, you could see where you saw it.

 

Quiet in his free time accompanied most of the time by milk of artificial flavor in box, Kageyama took the thick book, sunk to the noses in knowing if breathing the peculiar aroma of the pages could help him to understand as most of the population who is not from China speaks and writes so well the British hieroglyphs.

 

All that until the recurrent headache, named by Tsukishima as " _over heating of neurons"_ , makes an appearance. He abruptly closes the hard-paste dictionary by reloading his forehead on it, while a comical melody interrupts the thread of his thoughts.

 

He turns his head to find a small gentleman in a funny suit making tap steps as he throws his legs in the air. The bowler hat that sometimes rests in his tousled hair slips on his arms when they make circles to the tune of a contagious tune of street swing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The boy had apparently started to dance when he heard some guys from the music faculty playing recharged on a concrete wall and good acoustics, the students who passed by gave him applause, euphoric whistles and some girls nervous laughter. The dancer's gaze crashed with his in a rare hollow minute.

He returned to his method of study without understanding how at such a quick moment he could remember that the strange eyes were as clear and bright as polished copper. The discomfort of the music and the  _"clap, clap"_ of the dance shoes convinced him to leave with his face submerged to avoid a new visual contact.

 _Clap, clap._  Two strides of his legs.

 _Clap, clap, clap._ Five strides.

 _Clap, clap, clap, clap_. Nine at a speed imitating his.

Without wanting to face what was coming after him, he ran without more or less. Leaving the "street dancer" with his silence. One of the guys from the improvised band approached him slow as a turtle.

—What happens? —He asked looking in the same direction as his friend.

—Kenma, do you know who just ran?

—It's Kageyama, or something like that.

The surname of the fugitive resonated in echoes on the walls of his brain, added to the memory of his spectacular eye color.

—Does he also study musical composition? —Kenma shook his head— But he's studying here. Where do you know him?

—I don't know him, we just have classes in common. He takes english with me.

 

The questions continued to flow like water in the long waterfalls of Canada ( _"They're called, 'Niagara Falls', Shouyou, and they're on a boundary between Canada and the United States,"_  their roommates would repeat.), Questions that Kozume sometimes asks and couldn't answer him, because they had never crossed a word in his course, much less out of it. Covering his ears he sought to eliminate the sound, but he ended up covering his mouth to prevent it from continuing to speak.

—Are you interested in him?

Hinata nodded several times, looking like a figure with a big head. Kenma's hands stopped covering his lips.

—I can not help you much. -The watery eyes of the redhead gave him to understand that he needed at least a clue on how to talk to him— Fine, every Wednesday we left around this time.

—And he always comes here? —He questioned.

—I always see him around here.

The ideas flooded his thinking maquilando a wonderful plan of conquest. A strategy so well thought out that he would never stop taking his eyes off him.

* * *

 

 

It could be seen at first glance as the whirlpools in his orange hair suggested that he follow him to the party of his laughter, each step he took felt behind him the presence of a nice boy who did not understand the concept of autonomous solitude. Could someone explain what the term "personal space" means?

What he thought was some bad luck one afternoon, he ended up repeating again and again, every Wednesday.

The music was different, the different steps and the unusual dresses, they were always in accordance with what the redhead wanted to dance. When he discovered it, looking over the cover of his dictionary, he returned his gaze causing mental ravages and a very dense beat in his heartbeat.

All this was wrong, seeing him wherever he went, they had never crossed a word and he was already happy, exalted, glorious when the melody started and the improvised show took the form that the young dancer wanted. His dance was ironic, irreverent. Filled with that mischievous energy that invited you to continue in your game, just as your eyes call you to keep track of the points that your feet accompanied by the movement of hips, touched.

Without realizing the few minutes he endured, they transformed into the hour and a half free he had, only seeing him move as he pleased.

Until one day their brilliant moment changed abruptly, their looks connected, literally. Since at the end of the music the boy of the shows, dressed in casual clothes took him by the shoulders, sticking the tip of his nose to his. He sat on the coffee bench and the other stood on the sidewalk.

—Finally, I caught you! Why do you always run away when I finish dancing?

—I don't do that.

—Yes, you do it, all the time. Just when I want to talk with you.

Tobio swallows, feeling the blow of drool in his throat. This seems like a dream, of those where he knows that the outdoor choreography of the university center is for him and no one else.

 

—Do you want to  _talk_  with me? —The engineering student says it as if the verb synonym of  _"converse"_  was the least pronounced word in the world. Sees nod to the dance flurry— Why?

—Well, you're always looking at me and when you don't do it, I get a little desperate, you know?

—What a great reason. —Response ironic, the redhead makes a pout as bright as his face when he smiles.

—That's not just the reason, it also made me want to meet you.

The boy jumps on the bench and keeps him company by taking his doll to avoid him fleeing like every weekday.

—Do you let me invite you something? Coffee, tea?

Kageyama sighs attentively, although inside he feels the jumble of effervescence in his guts every time he hears him speak. He wants to have him closer and listen to him all day without stopping.

—I prefer artificial flavored milk.

* * *

 

 

Five Wednesdays they took Hinata to discover various things about Kageyama.

From the basics, such as his career in mechatronic engineering, which he studies because his father wants him to work with him, he detests the mixture of letters and numbers in the form of an equation with his whole being, which stinks in English where you saw him (or you heard, because his pronunciation was disgusting, but fun) and that his favorite subject is physical education.

He also managed to get the soup on his aspirations that were not seen as dreams just because he wanted to become the best point guard of all time, and this had been recruited for the national team in the youth volleyball league.

—Kageyama, I like you.

—Should I say the same? —Response the highest man breaking into proud laughter to see the angry face of Hinata.

—You're so mean, Dummy-yama!

* * *

 

Twenty Wednesdays were enough for Hinata to notice that Kageyama is not good at initiating conversations, that he is reserved when he talks about feelings because he thinks he does not have them, and that in reality he is more transparent than he claims to be because his expressions give him away. More when he says a compliment, he does not know how to take them without turning red up to his neck.

He now knows that he is the only child in a family made up of his father who is an engineer in mechatronics and his mother an elementary school teacher. He knows that both he and Tobio are from the same region of Japan and live renting with roommates in the campus of the University, that both in their borrowed homes harbor a couple that does not let them sleep at times because of their noises that remind them that they're more single than Bridget Jones.

—Sometimes I think I should move, but it's not costing to live alone here in Tokyo.

—Maybe you should look for new partners. It does not sound like Kuroo-san and Kenma are going to keep quiet. —Tobio said, drinking from the flexible straw in his milk carton.

—Neither does it seem that Tsukishima and Yamaguchi will let you sleep.

—Don't remind me that. —Tobio looked at the sky, feeling in his hair the blizzard of the summer breeze— It's almost the season of change of bedrooms, you can take the opportunity to move.

—True, but I would not like to live with a stranger.

They both murmured as they brought some buns of boiled meat to his mouth.

—Hinata —The aforementioned passed his mouthful and raised his head to listen to Kageyama's voice— We could live together.

Hinata's jaw suffered from severe decomposition.

—Why do you put that face so surprised, dumbass!?

—I didn't think you would ask me that! And do not tell me "dumbass"!

—I say what I see and nothing else! So that's a "yes" or a "no"!?

—It's a "thousand times yes"!

* * *

 

Thirty-two Wednesdays, they were too much of Kageyama for Hinata. He did not know if he could keep the composure of wanting to eat kisses to the volleyball player when he was exhausted on the couch.

With dry slime at their corners, dark circles afflicting his features and disheveled hair, Shouyou wondered what was wrong with him. It was clear that from the beginning of time Tobio seemed incredible and handsome, but this got out of control when his sweet and unexpected attitudes stand out in his acts.

 _"Take a bath or you'll catch a cold, stupid", "I already made your chocolate as you like", "If I did not know you, I'd say you're lying"_ , _"Give me your hand, you can't cross the street like that_. _"_ Kageyama's motherly phrases fell like a bucket of cold water stunned her breathing.

He wanted so badly to bite his bloated cheeks in his dreams and eat kisses every inch of his skin, he was dying to prove himself to where he wanted him to take him by the waist and talk to his ear. He wanted to love him and be loved, wake up both in the same bed and enjoy the null space between their bodies.

He was cursed by the charm of the owner's precious eyes.

He was in love with everything he could do, say, think and be, Kageyama.

* * *

 

Fifty-two Wednesdays were marked on their refrigerator's calendar when they both celebrated the end of another year. The bad weather, the recovery exams and the good news of the volleyball camp that Kageyama will attend near the winter break prevented both of them from being at home celebrating with their families.

It was really different as you could see an almost empty university, since many students, usually local or club, had to spend the holidays there before the renovation of the rooms; The silence of the school and the lack of people made it worthy of a horror movie. Although everything was different if you were locked with the person you like by your side eating overheated curry from the night before.

In fact for him it was the best situation that could have happened to him, since it was a time alone that he could not live in his house, with his younger sister making fun of their obvious faces, because she and her mother had told him it was a miracle Kageyama would not have noticed that he was dying for him.

He remembered the trip to her home with Kageyama, Kenma and Kuroo for the summer, and she self-reported not to take back his  _"crush"_ (as Natsu called it) until he was his formal boyfriend.

Hinata blushed at the thought of such a thing. Boyfriend? _"First you should tell him that you love how he looks when he's just taken a bath!"_  He thought sarcastically.

—Hinata, stop looking me like an dumbass.

For that kind of nicknames with an insult word I sometimes did not know because he liked the interesting Kageyama so much and now he's dumb himself.

He didn't complain and went to the fridge to take out a huge bottle of sake, with twenty-four plastic cups stacked.

—Is almost new year, we must follow the tradition.

—Being twelve cups in a row is not a tradition. Tobio answered, renewing the topic they had played this morning.

—It's a tradition in a bar, I've already told you, Dummy-yama.

 

Shouyou served the glasses, placing a row of twelve in front of the one with dark hair.

—Are you going to throw back, "chicken"?

He knew that there are two things that Kageyama would never reject.

First, a good game of volleyball, and second, a challenge in which to win. That was his nature as well as Hinata's.

The sound of the television, warned that the bells were about to begin, took positions by lifting their shoulders and taking the base of the first cup. After the sound of the bell the glass were being emptied of their contents.

The bitter taste, the momentary burn scraping his buccal cords, and the feeling of dizziness took over the couple's senses at the end of their drinks.

—I won, I won! —The aspiring dancer cheered, jumping to the side of Kageyama.

—Are you insane!? I finished the cups before!

—It was me!

Hinata rested her knees on the sides of Kageyama's hips. Above him, she could see that his blue gaze reflected the light given off by the sparks of the pyrotechnics.

The fireworks outside his building announced the beginning of the year. The closeness of their faces, the outcome of an instant worthy of an oil painting. Tobio brushes his thumb over the edge of his mouth, breathing deeply before hitting him.

Imaginary butterflies flutter out of her body, he feels his heart rate has stopped completely when he bites his lip causing it to open to give depth to the delirium in a kiss.

Kageyama's tongue plays with his, his lips do not stop moving, like his restless hands that touch each part covered in clothes above, and although it costs him too much to go back to the time before the kiss, he doesn't want to take it off, he wants much more time to devour his mouth between skin games.

At some point and without him, they separated to look at each other with the energy and sexual tension of the moment.

—Accept your lost, Hinata.

—Only if you kiss me like that again. Or better, do what you want.

The next day, Hinata discovers that maybe he should put limits on Tobio's mischievous hands and his teeth at same.

* * *

 

Ninety Wednesdays are just what both of them needed to know that life isn't pink and sweet all the time. Although the discussions were arduous, the conflicts for stupid reasons and the two with an antonym character to the other, that was not the problem that afflicted them in the present.

Hinata hidden among the huge cushions of the long chair, covered with the towel soaked after his shower on his legs, and an almost empty bowl of cereal with milk, he watched the monitor on her screen, the one where an intense play of hands was played, blows and sound blasts. He could not miss Kageyama's games when they were out of town, which was becoming commonplace.

Since he was drafted for the Japanese youth volleyball team, nothing was the same.

Seeing Tobio on television was something surreal, like he was dating a Hollywood celebrity and he was a teller in a bank. He wasn't jealous of his boyfriend's success, nor did he carry the features of envy; but neither was it overjoyed.

He missed him so much, and knew he did the same. He understood when they used the time they had free one of the two and they take the opportunity to talk about their adventures, international travel was the most annoying, since the time zone difference made it more complex, with a Hinata connecting to four of the morning to wish him a good day or night, or with Kageyama almost stumbling from the shower to answer his call.

It was painful to see himself through his cell phones, sometimes lasting months without doing it in person, and that is when he returned from his matches in other regions, the time completely ended up devoting to his studies, Shouyou could not complain, because for his part he was the same face of the coin, with new projects, the certification of his career as a dancer that was already ending at the peak of his last semester.

Still, he would never bother to smile when he saw his lover experience success and fulfill his dreams. The happiness that provided it when he listened to his love narrate the matches and the sensations of his victories was equitable to the one he emanated when he danced for him when he returned.

This he thought while turning off the television, he left the control rest on the coffee table, right next to his letter of acceptance to the prestigious dance studio Karasuno to continue his way to teaching in contemporary dance.

 

* * *

One hundred and fifty three Wednesdays were enough for Hinata to realize that in Kageyama he had found the stupidest, stubborn person and yet the most perfect person to share the rest of the time they both could exist.

Kenma and Kuroo would have helped him get the set up of his week-long improvised show, surrounded by prop flowers in the flower boxes and a fabulous tailored suit (too hard to get, according to Tetsurou, because of the height of the little Hinata.).

The most complicated, after months of effort in his full-time job, asking for extra classes on weekends, in addition to teaching like nobody else in the dance studio of Miss Shimizu, he had finally achieved it.

His hard work was reflected in a thin velvet covering, which inside hid a promise in the form of a ring, which he placed on the tip of Tobio's nose.

—Go out with me, Dummy-yama.

—We're not dating now, dumbass?

Hinata was not in the center of the square, but on the sidewalk at the foot of the coffee bench. That one where for the first time she had decided to face him and not evade more.

—No, I mean for the rest of our life. Wait, what did I tell you to say "dumbass"?

—Huh? Dumbass are called that, dumbass.

Kageyama realized the phrase _"rest of our life_ " after several brain minutes, was he supposed to answer already? Was it a marriage that was giving him to understand what he would want with him? His crude expression gave no hint of anything, the speech had ended up being stuck in his throat.

—Kageyama Tobio, Go out with me every day!

Shouyou sighed more than once to emphasize his intentions. The wait was eternal, especially for the tension that was marked in each of their muscles, the sighs of people who witnessed the moment in their daily walk, watching the prospect dancer with a box in his hands while kneeling in front of the prodigious captain of the volleyball team of the university.

—It is a proposal?

The redhead nodded with all the encouragement. The brightness of that wonderful being took away a simple and foolish smile that slipped under the tiny bags that were part of her cheeks. For Hinata at that moment there was nothing more beautiful in the entire Universe.

—I'm going to think about it, Hinata.

 

The contact of the hands of the owner in your hair transmits heat to your body and energy to the butterflies in your stomach.

—Can I kiss you at all hours, call you "sweetie" and those things, then?

He tried to repeat again that would think about it, but it was useless and he knew it beforehand. What is the use of saying "no" if he was going to do whatever he wanted anyway?

Shouyou's voice captivated him before leaving for his bedroom with his bland farewells, in the end he could not deny anything to him.

A kiss on his lips was enough to silence him once and answer all his questions. It felt enormous freedom and happiness outside of the reality in which he was living.

The shameful applause of the passers-by helped him to return to the present in the real world of some university students in his last days of his career.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the readings and kudos!  
> It's awesome being acceptable in this beautiful fandom <3
> 
> Always yours,  
> Lady


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